Isn’t it amazing when you meet someone whose gift just flows out of them, bubbling up and pouring out like an artesian spring, wherever they are, whatever they’re doing?

I had that experience yesterday. The first snowstorm of the year landlocked us on Saturday, meaning that our peaceful Sunday afternoon was transformed into a mad dash to fill our shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child, and fill our fridge and pantry for our Thanksgiving celebration. Once we had all the stuff for the shoeboxes, I shooed Aaron and the kids back to the van (because, well, bringing four kids into Wal-Mart gets really old, really fast), and started powerwalking the grocery aisles, stocking up for the holiday.

I was hustling down the center aisle, trying to figure out where in the world those fiendish Wal-Mart workers had hidden the cranberries, when I heard something that stopped me in my tracks.

“When somebody loves you, you feel it in your heart…”

Someone was singing–no, not singing, crooning–in that mellow, laid-back baritone style that still makes ladies melt, and keeps old movies like White Christmas flying off the shelves. I looked around and realized that The Voice was coming from the blue-vested gentleman standing behind the sample counter, scooping up minuscule cups of ice cream and microwavable apple pie. The one I had been trying to avoid, because I. Was. In. A. Hurry.

I moved toward the sample counter like a starry-eyed Ginger Rogers who had just spotted Fred Astair across a crowded ballroom. The sample man smiled at me and kept singing, scooping me up cup of Sarah Lee’s latest creation.

“You have an amazing voice,” I said when he had finished his song.

I stood there for the next five minutes, eating my apple pie and listening to him talk about washing dishes and singing old songs with his mother when he was a child. About being strong-armed into taking choir in eighth grade, and how music kept him out of trouble throughout high school. About growing up, getting married, and trading his musical aspirations for a steady job to support his sweetheart. About retiring, and taking a job at Wal-Mart to keep himself busy. He works most Tuesdays, and little old ladies from all over town come in to be serenaded by Russell the Singing Sample Man, to hear him sing the songs that shaped their lives, but have been forgotten by society, tossed aside and left behind like their beauty, meaning and usefulness had expired. Through the entire conversation, Russell sang snippets of those old songs, scooping up sweets for everyone who walked by. Everyone who stopped long enough to listen, at least.

Amazing.

What a reminder that everyone has something beautiful to share, if we stop long enough to pay attention.

I have a guest post up at FullFill today about the things that have often kept me from manifesting my gifts. Go on over and check it out, and see if you can relate. But seriously–if this gentleman can make full use of the voice God gave him working the sample counter at Wal-Mart, what excuse do any of us have?